


The Nutcracker

by Chubbycubby



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 04:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chubbycubby/pseuds/Chubbycubby
Summary: Christmas is just another day on the calendar for Hanzo until one magical night changes everything.





	The Nutcracker

It’s looking like it’ll be a white Christmas, not that that meant much to Hanzo. For some people it was an exciting time of the year to spend time with friends and family. For him, just another day on the calendar having neither or those, nor a Christian faith. The most he could enjoy was the Christmas kitsch that lined every store shelf. Even this place, which mostly sells kendamas, has an entire table filled with nutcrackers.

 

They’re all cheaply made, but he has to admire the variety, soldiers, ballerinas, fishermen, even an Omnic dressed in a bright red coat. Hanzo pauses on that one, plucking it from the lineup for a closer look. The others had sloppy, mass-produced paint jobs, but this one seemed like it must have been made with the most tender care… Hanzo peaks inside the coat, feeling a bit flustered when he sees every screw and plate underneath.

 

“You like it?” the shop keeper asks. “I can tell he wants to go home with you for Christmas.”

 

She definitely has him pegged for one of those weirdos who married dolls, and Hanzo puts it down, remarking, “Oh no, I don’t have any use for it.”

 

“Sure you do! It cracks nuts! I’ll show you!” and she grabs a walnut from the dish marked “try me!”

 

Hanzo shouts “wait!” but she is too quick for him. There’s a snap, and the poor thing’s jaw slumps as the nut falls to the side and the woman looks down on him sheepishly. Hanzo tears the thing from the woman’s hands, shouting, “Look what you did!” and leaving so quickly, she doesn’t even have time to process his reaction, much less stop it.

 

Cradling the doll in his arms, Hanzo strides back to his hostel, muttering things to himself about careless people. He doesn’t mind the thick snowflakes, but he still scrunches his nose in a vain attempt to warm the steel bar in the bridge. He shakes off all the cold in the lobby, even dusting off his patient with care. Off to the left, in the common area, there are people singing carols and drinking beer in front of a TV playing a Christmas special. Even if he did plan to drink all night, he preferred to do it alone, and not in sake of some other religion’s sacred holiday. No, he would drink to the nutcracker’s health, and a long swig at that, before he retrieves his small toolkit and begins working on the thing.

 

Sitting on his bed, he glances around, grateful to be alone in his room. No one hears him say, “I apologize for my impropriety, but I must get a closer look,” but the nutcracker himself. Hanzo carefully undoes the tiny buttons to fully access the neck and finds himself blushing, but also ignoring those emotions completely. It takes all of his focus and mechanical knowledge to reconnect the tiny parts inside, but with a few spare screws and a little glue, he has the nutcracker back in working order.

 

“I know you may feel better now, but rest for at least three days before returning to your normal lifestyle,” he lectures the doll as he puts the lever arm in a little sling he fashioned. “Too many Omnics jump right back into their routines, and too often they find the repair work did not cover all of their injuries, so you must be careful.”

 

He actually waits a moment for the nutcracker to say something back, before realizing he might actually be losing his mind. Forgoing anymore alcohol, Hanzo decides to turn in for the night, but not before laying the little man on the pillow beside him, supposing he would deal with this apparent meltdown later. Just as he reaches for the lamp, there’s a skittering noise. Hanzo snaps his neck around and locks eyes with what had to the biggest fucking rat he had ever seen.

 

Not only were there cats smaller than this thing, but it has three heads that he counted at like six times in disbelief. He wants to check the label on that sake, or get his things from the floor, but all he’s terrified that if he looks away it’ll move and he won’t know where it is. He blinks over and over, growing more and less certain each time. Even with his bow close at hand, Hanzo genuinely believes he must be hallucinating sucha creature. It’s wearing a crown no less, staring him down, and it’s like a punch to the gut when it speaks, “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

 

Hanzo wonders if he’s having a stroke.

 

“The easy way is you give me The Nutcracker, and the hard way is you I blow you up, and you give me the Nutcracker.”

 

That’s when Hanzo snatches his bow, having not enough room to draw it back completely, but also certain he was going to kill it. Still, the lingering worry that he is hallucinating, and may be about to hurt someone innocent halts him from making the shot, giving the rat time to retaliate.

 

“Your brow is sweaty! Your head is hard!

Make a doll of the nutcracker’s guard!”

 

Giddy laughter erupts in the room as a sharp pain rattles through Hanzo’s body. He thought he was blacking out when the room began to swirl around his and the rat got even bigger. It’s only when he feels his joint stiffening and his face hardening that he understands he’s shrinking.Insulted at the very idea of being anyone’s play thing, Hanzo summons the dragons, breaking his limbs free from the curse, but not restoring his size.

 

At his true height, he would’ve obliterated the thing with an arrow, but even with a full draw now he’s not certain one arrow with do the trick. The rest are still taller than him, and without any back up plan he remains drawn, by indecisive about the shot.

 

“Let me help you,” a calm voice says, as a dark shade of magic overtakes the rat. Hanzo finally looks behind him, seeing the nutcracker brushing himself off and buttoning his jacket.“I am surprised as you as,” Zenyatta says, collecting his mind and resuming his meditative state that allowed him to float easily above the floor. “I felt like I was under The Rat King’s curse for an eternity.”

 

“The Rat King?” Hanzo says, turning back around.

 

“That’s right, me!” the rat says, hobbling forward on his pegleg.

 

Hanzo pulls the bow tight, barking out, “Stay back.”

 

“Oh, I’m staying right here,” he says, adjusting his canon, “but my friends are ready for a Christmas visit.”

 

It sounds like an engine struggling to turn over, and Hanzo freezes at the random spray of grenades coming towards him. To his surprise, they explode midair, and it’s only when the rat is knocked on his ass that he realizes the nutcracker can control that ring of walnuts that encircle him.

 

“I’m not done with you bot!” the rat king years, waving his gun weakly.

 

Another shot, and this time, the foe explodes into a pile of ash. “Yes you are,” he comments as he dusts his jacket off.

 

“Well,” Hanzo says as he lowers his bow. “I see you’re quite handy with your nuts.” Immediately he rephrases to, “I mean- you’re good at aiming your balls your-,” Hanzo stutters out apologies, embarrassed by his slip and flustered by the doofy face looking up at him.

 

Zenyatta coolly ignores his flustered states, saying, “My name is Zenyatta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

 

“My name is Hanzo,” he replies, collecting himself to return the small bow.

 

“I suppose we should go about returning you to your normal size. It’s the least I can do to repay my doctor,” he says, putting his hand on Hanzo’s arm.

 

Hanzo’s first reaction is to pull away, but he forces himself to stiffly relax into the touch, allowing it as he speaks, “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

 

“Nonsense,” Zenyatta says, noticing how Hanzo exhaled as the Omnic withdrew his hand. “My magic can easily transform lives, but in this world, my power is dampened. If we return to The Land of Toys, I will be able to change you back to your former self in the snap of my fingers.”

 

The fear that he was having a stroke returns, but Hanzo brushes it off, leaning in to ask, “How do we get to The Land of Toys? Getting out of this building could take several hours.”

 

“Very astute, but why go all that way when your clock is right here.”

 

He said that so dryly that Hanzo flushes immediately, asking the doll, “My… clock?”

 

“On your phone, of course. However, I am not sure how we will reach it before midnight, as it is already 11:58.” Zenyatta says, gesturing to Hanzo’s phone charging on a small side table. The problem wasn’t so much the height as the distance between the mattress and the table, not to mention the featureless cabinet had nothing to grab onto, and was made of smooth plastic.

 

“Oh, that will not be very hard at all,” Hanzo comments. Slinging his bow over her shoulder, holding his single arrow in his teeth, he takes a running leap to the wall, losing no momentum as he shoots up the side, reaching the top quickly. There’s no time to waste. He unspools the electric tape he left out quickly, hard work for someone so small. He fastens it to the shafts, and shoots it so it buries itself in the mattress.

 

“How does that work for you?” Hanzo calls down.

 

In truth, it does not, but perhaps Zenyatta feels he has to be just as impressive, and replies, “Very well friend!” which apparently did not suit Hanzo at all, as he immediately retrieves a pair of tweezers and throws them across like a plank over the gorge.

 

“How does that suit you?” he asks, holding the tweezers closed so Zenyatta could guide himself along the path, using the tape like a handrail.

 

“You are wonderfully innovative,” Zenyatta comments as Hanzo takes his hand to pull him up. He wants to rebuke the compliment, but the feeling of sixty-four distinct moving parts in his palm sends static to his mind, scrambling his words and keeping him silent. “Do you plan to take your bow into the ball?”

 

“A ball?!” Hanzo responds worriedly, groping at the street clothes he slept in.

 

“Do not worry; you look handsome.”

 

Face burning, he answers, “I am flattered, but I do not think this dress is appropriate for a formal occasion.”

 

Zenyatta stands once he is on top of Hanzo’s phone. “You will see things are different in The Land of Toys.”

 

“How so?”

 

Holding out his hand, he says, “You will have to trust me, and see for yourself.” Any other person would’ve expected Hanzo to reject the invitation, or at least his hand, but he takes it if only because he wanted to hold it once more.

 

“Now what?” Hanzo asks after tossing his bow aside. He’s more focused on not scratching his own phone than anything else until the Omnic takes both his hands.

 

“We wait for midnight,” Zenyatta answers succinctly.

 

“And then what?” Hanzo asks, knowing he should check the time himself, but finding it impossible to look away from their hands cradled in each other.

 

Zenyatta laughs, “It will speak for itself soon enough, no?”

 

“It’s not very fair if you don’t share all the information with me.”

 

“And is not fair that you are so handsome, and I have no lips to kiss you with.”

 

The flustered Hanzo far too much for him to let that be the last word in the matter, retorting, “Ah, but at least I can kiss you.” He tugs the man forward, and just then his peripheral vision catches the minute turning over into midnight. The glass surface of the device is suddenly permeable, and they fall before his can plant a peck. Hanzo tucks himself, ready to mitigate impact, but he lands on a pile of snow soft enough to break his fall, but not at all cold.

 

“Now that’s what I call being swept off my feet,” Zenyatta says, offering his hand to his date, who can only stare stunned at the new facade. The goofy smile has been replaced with the handsome and serene face of a monk, adorned with a crown, and draped in fine robes. True, his own clothes had been changed to a rich kimono and hakama, but he did not notice, enraptured by The Prince as he took his hand and got to his feet. Even slower was he to see the brilliant party despite the fact that he had landed in the gardens of this brilliant palace.

 

“I take it you’re impressed,” Zenyatta says as he brushes the snow from Hanzo’s chest.

 

“It is beautiful,” Hanzo remarks, having never seen so many delicate intricacies in a building during all his travel and studies. The flowers were resplendent in their blooms, the snow dampenning neither their numbers nor colors. A symphony of skill beyond anything he had ever heard played melodies that made his very soul feel light with its life.

 

“Prince! You have returned to our kingdom!” a voice says, a prismatic fae appearing before them. “Oh, and you brought a companion! Hello! I am The Sugar Plum Faerie, and welcome to The Land of Toys. I was the ruler here while The Prince was absent, but now that he has returned I will back to a much calmer lide.

 

Hanzo shakes her hand firmly. “A pleasure to meet you. Thank you for serving your role honorably.”

 

“So formal! What kind of toy are you?”

 

“He is no toy at all,” Zenyatta replies, “He is a human.”

 

“Oh! Oh my!” she says, flitting here and there in the sudden excitement. “Should I use my magic to change you back? I could get you patched up right away!”

 

“Wait!” Hanzo says, gathering himself before speaking more, “I- I like this waltz very much!”

 

“Alright! The Land of Toys will send you back whenever you fall asleep. Until then, have fun!”

 

She flies back to the gathering as Zenyatta ask, “Do you know how to waltz?”

 

“I was taught once, and I am eager to sharpen my skills once more.”

 

Hanzo offers his hand, and The Prince takes it, leading into the ballroom where a crowd of dolls and little metal soldiers cheer for his return. The commotion takes so long, Hanzo’s song is long over before he finally puts his hand on Zenyatta’s waist.

 

“I am sorry we missed your song,” The Prince coos softly.

 

“This one is my favorite,” Hanzo assures him.

 

“I agree. The Waltz of the Flowers is beautiful in E major,” the Omnic comments.

 

“Is that what it’s called?” Hanzo says lightly, a sly smile crossing his face as they moved gracefully across the floor.

 

“You didn’t know the name of your favorite song?” Zenyatta teases, leaning in.

 

“It is my favorite, because it is the first song we danced to.” And he too moves in closer, until their bodies moved as one on the dance floor, wrapped up in each other as much as they could be in a crowd of people, their eyes so passionately locked, no one ever asking to cut-in. There was no dance they didn’t know, no step they didn’t take as they twirled endlessly around the floor hour after hour.

 

“Do you need to sit?” Zenyatta says the third time Hanzo trips over his own feet.

 

“Please,” he murmurs as the music changes to something that reminded him of fat snowflakes collecting on a windowsill, “just one more dance.”

 

“I fear you will not make it that far,” he answers as Hanzo slumps in his arms, eyes heavy with sleep.

 

“Please,” not knowing if he’s pleading to his mind or his lover as he finally collapses to the floor. “I don’t want to wake up and find this was a dream-”

 

“Reality is your perception.”

 

“Can I kiss my perception?” Hanzo says, fighting the fatigue, but losing miserably.

 

Zenyatta leans over, pressing his cold lips to Hanzo’s soft ones, a sensation so full and sharp, it wakes him in his hostel bed.

 

Frantically Hanzo checks his size, before realizing the nutcracker was no longer tucked into bed. With a curse, he stumbles and leaps out of bed, throwing on the lights before tearing the room apart. He roots through his bag, looks under his bed, and even the others’ bed, growing more desperate as every place turned out decisively empty.

 

Hanzo bolts out of the room is a confused, cold sweat, down to the front desk, lacking the composure needed to explain what had just happened. Before he finds the sense to ring the bell, the front door opens and an Omnic walks in from the cold. He may not be dressed as The Prince, but Hanzo’s heart recognizes him, though his mind doesn’t dare believe it.

 

“I believe I can finally return this to you,” Zenyatta says, stepping forward so he could take Hanzo’s hands and place a small object in his palm. Seeing the sling he had fashioned in his palm, Hanzo leaps into Zenyatta’s arms, finally able to return that magical Christmas kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I rushed tf out of this so if you made it this far, I'm leaving you kudos~ hahahaha
> 
> Nothing says Christmas like a pagan writing two people who don't even celebrate Christmas in a gd holiday special. I just wanna say though, this ship is so pure and lovely <3
> 
> My favorite thing about this fic is that Hanzo doesn't celebrate Christmas because he respects the sanctity of the holiday. He does know Christians/Westerners don't (always) take it seriously, but he thinks they /should/, so he's strict with his self-imposed "no Santa Claus related fun" rule. which seems hilarious, and so in characters. I think he's change his stance on it :)


End file.
